


Foundation Of All Things

by HerenorThereNearnorFar



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerenorThereNearnorFar/pseuds/HerenorThereNearnorFar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If she trusts the contact, I trust the contact"- Out of Darkness  Some things come easily and some things take time. Kanan Jarrus still isn't quite sure what to make of his new partner or her mysterious friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foundation Of All Things

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to get a grip on Kanan and Hera's characters. Shortly after A New Dawn.

Her hand curled lightly around his arm, not pulling so much as warning. A silent Don't Move. Kanan froze, Hera wasn't that casually touchy and the suddenness of the contact and the tension thrumming through the the faint press of skin told him something was very wrong. 

A minute passed and the she let go. Kanan silently turned his head to look out of their hiding place and saw a stormtrooper padding off. Must have been quiet. The competent troopers were always the worst. He gave Hera a nod of appreciation and tried to get more comfortable in their little alley corner. A pile of crates that might have been older then the Empire were haphazardly stacked in a side nook of the street and the years had left them jumbled enough that a small cave of sorts had developed. It hadn't taken the duo a lot of adjusting to get themselves hidden and with any luck they could wait off the search sitting in the dirt and darkness. Of course they might run into some trouble getting out, Kanan could already feel his legs falling asleep and even in the darkness he could make out Hera's expression of discomfort. He considered shifting positions and decided against it. Hera had been very careful to arrange herself so they weren't touching when they first crawled in here, he wasn't going to risk making this awkward. A few weeks together and things were getting tense. After Gorse there had been some trust but not enough, they both still had to adjust to having each other around. Kanan never thought a gorgeous woman would make him feel off balance in a bad way. And Hera clearly had some reservations about him, he could see it in her body language and feel it in the fragments of the Force he hadn't been able to completely suppress. 

And then there was the information thing. They had just broken into a (small) imperial outpost for a data file Hera insisted they get. Kanan didn't know why. In fact what he had seen of the file suggested it would be of no help to the two of them alone. It was all personnel and blueprints of places you'd need a team of experts to crack. Certainly nothing a wide eyed ace pilot and a drunk, failed Jedi could pull off. He had mentioned this to her in as offhand a manner as possible and she had just given him a steely stare and grudgingly confirmed that they wouldn't be using the file. Which begged the question, who would be?

Kanan didn't claim to be the brightest but he had received a quality education from the Jedi Temple and then another from the school of Hard Knocks and Childhood Trauma. As far as he could figure Hera was going to give the intelligence to someone who could properly use it. He knew Hera was probably always going to be better informed then he was but being constantly out of the loop was starting to grate a little. 

He peered out of their abode one more time and, assured no one was near by, cleared his throat. Hera blinked, green eyes reflective in the darkness, and whispered, "What?"

Kanan hadn't really had a plan past getting Hera's attention. "So. You still have the file?" he whispered back. A slim hand silently held up the packet of machinery and stolen knowledge for inspection. Kanan nodded. "That's good. So, what are we doing with it?"

Hera spoke as if every word was being drawn out of her. "It's going to someone."

"Can I know who?" Kanan ventured. 

"No."

He took a few minutes to digest this. "Why?"

"You're not going to accept, 'Because I said so' are you?" Hera replied, her voice tinged with equal measures of humour and exhaustion.

Happy that this had moved back into a friendly zone Kanan shook his head and grinned. "You're not my nursery teacher."

"Mother."

That threw him for a loop. "Sorry?"

Hera stretched out her legs a few inches, letting them press into his side. "Most people would say I wasn't their mother."

Kanan filed this away. Even after years bits of the Temple crept out. It was a constant fight to press them back, to act like a normal galactic citizen who had grown up with a family and mundanity instead of interchangeable tutors and the promise of greatness. "You're not my mother then. I think we've established that we're on the same page, Hera. You can tell me."

"No. I can't." She insisted. "The less people who know, the better."

It was hard to argue with that but Kanan tried. "I know." he said in the tense undertone people all across the galaxy had developed for arguing in libraries. "But I'm trained to resist torture. And what if something happens and I need to have the information?"

Hera's lips pursed. "Nothing is going to happen." she promised. "Just trust me."

Kanan sighed a bit too loudly then flinched. After checking again for anyone near their hiding place he fixed Hera with his most pitiful stare, the one perfected as a scrawny 14 year old on the streets. "I do. I just need to know you trust me."

Hera smiled. "An admirable try, but the pleading eyes won't work on a twi'lek. Besides, I do trust you, Love. Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

He tried to ignore the warmth in his chest and the strangeness of watching her lips curl around the word 'Love'. She's just being friendly, he reminded himself, friends say things like that. Mustering an equally flippant grin he made a small gesture that nonetheless managed to encompass the whole of their hiding place. "I would hate to miss out on experiences like this."

Hera smothered a laugh and leaned over till her mouth was near his ear and her hand was on his knee for balance. Kanan was so distracted by these developments he nearly missed her breathy murmur. "Their name is Fulcrum."

Kanan nodded and swallowed and Hera leaned away but didn't move her hand. It had to be a trick of the dim light that a pine coloured blush seemed to have crept over her face. 

They didn't move or talk for the next few hours and the little nook was once again silence and darkness. But Kanan could swear that underneath it was something barely remembered that brought back pain tinged recollections of soaring halls full of life and the easy certainty of an child. It was sure and solid and though he hesitated to put a name to the feeling it seemed like the sort of thing you could build a world around. He half suspected he had already started to.


End file.
